


Confrontation

by jessieb



Series: One Hundred Leagues and Ten [1]
Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: F/M, M/M, discussion of Elrond/Celebrian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-03
Updated: 2015-02-03
Packaged: 2018-03-10 09:44:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3285707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jessieb/pseuds/jessieb
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An interlude, in which there are truths and half truths when Celeborn comes to visit. </p><p>Currently first in the First Summer In Greenwood set.</p><p>Takes place in Imladris shortly (elven-shortly) after they, ah, diversify their friendship.</p><p>(Not actually updated- sorry! I just realised I'd made one small and one really stupid mistake.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Confrontation

**Author's Note:**

> (thinking of making an actual series now and calling it 'One thousand leagues and ten' - what do you guys think are we there yet?) 
> 
> I don't feel I've really done dear Celeborn, or Imladris, justice here, and it's a bit boring,but I needed to get this out of my system and move on. 
> 
> Also, I'm now on tumblr as apologeticallyassertive so I'd love to meet some of you guys on there.
> 
> Sorry, I think this is going to get pushed back up to the top of the listings but I really wanted to get it in a series before I forgot.

 Imladris itself was nearly as delightful as ever, when Celeborn viewed it with objective eyes.

His visits were few and far between, and thus these halls were nowhere close to being washed clean of memories. He avoided the willow under which she had told he and her mother of her answer to Elrond. Her smile had lingered in his mind for weeks, such joyous news.

This journey with his granddaughter had been a balm beyond measure, and he hoped she had also enjoyed his company on the long road from Lothlórien. She was more sombre these days, compared to the Arwen of old, and with a wisdom about her that unaccountably grieved him. Yet still was she that bright, brave girl he knew, with her loyal heart and dedicated mind. No, it was her brothers he worried for, just as their father did.

This evening, though, Thranduil’s presence helped alter the character of the place, the pattern of their talk, and keep the recollections at bay. And with Thranduil, there was an amity so familiar and so missed, so long absent. He near drank the details of his cousin’s life, richer than was possible in letters.

They’d long sent Lindir and the attendants home, so Elrond refilled their glasses, drawing Thranduil’s attention with a light touch to his wrist.

He nodded. ‘Of course,’ he said, and broke from their discussion for a moment to grin at Elrond.

Letters from him had been reassuring of late, less spare and formal.  Later, they could speak together, just the two of them, under the stars perhaps; Thranduil wouldn’t be able to speak truly freely with Elrond here.

 They were getting on well though, Thranduil leaning across the table and holding Elrond’s eyes as he wove an old tale of misadventure. Elrond laughed. That was well; he was far too serious. Even more he thought how this was definitely a friendship he ought encourage, and facilitate if he could; Elrond could sink too much into introspection, and into consideration, and could be so uncertain if he felt he didn’t know something for sure. Such fear of being caught out, of being ignorant, could paralyse him. Thranduil, of course, had no difficulty determining when and how to act.

Any amity that could be grown between Imladris and Greenwood would be extraordinarily beneficial, to both, and to Lothlorien. Perhaps this creeping decline of Elven influence could be halted, or even reversed, if they could but    True enough that there were few remaining upon Arda in the cast of those like Thingol, Melian, Fingolfin, the great beacons of the Quendi. His lady could yet be counted among them, yet too many were lost.

Perhaps now their resources were soft, or brittle, or tarnished with age. Yet if they had not the pure strength of Mithril to wield, a crucible could be used, and from it they could forge steel.

Off in the darkness slowly began questioning birdsong, until there sang skylarks and song thrushes, and then the little warble of a robin. Through the windows a wan light could now be seen, as though Thranduil had just touched the liquid dark canvas of the sky with the very tip of a wet paintbrush. After the long journey, a few hours of rest would be agreeable and though Thranduil showed no signs of preparing to leave, Elrond was in all probability hoping to retire soon himself.

‘I think we ought take our leave,’ he said, and stood with the reluctance of the end of a long and pleasant evening.

‘Actually,’ Thranduil murmured as he rose but slowly to his feet, ‘I won’t be retiring just yet.’

He stood behind his chair, fingers tap-tap-tapping a light pattern against the polished arch of rosewood as he held Celeborn’s eyes. It was long millennia since Celeborn had been in any position to rebuke him for simple rudeness, and longer since he would have done so if they were not alone. If Elrond wished Thranduil to leave, it would appear that he would need to request it himself. Yet Elrond said nothing, and was instead watching Celeborn, looking wary and perhaps even troubled, with tight muscles around his eyes and absently steepled hands resting upon the table. Thranduil continued to speak softly.

‘We decided that neither of us could, nor would, lie to you. Not even by omission.’

Lie to him? What untruths could possibly be lurking in such benign circumstance? What secret could rest in Thranduil staying a little later in Elrond’s rooms? Too late, he recalled the inconsistencies in behaviour he had been noting and immediately discarding. Ridiculous, fanciful musings; an absurd and preposterous invention of his mind. Yet what else Thranduil could mean wasn’t immediately obvious.

‘I must ask you to elaborate, cousin. What truth is this that you would have me know?’

‘One that must stay a secret,’ Thranduil replied, ‘though I hope you receive it well. It pleases you, I think, that Elrond and I are become friends in truth and not in mere rhetoric.’

Alarm prickled up Celeborn’s spine; that was not a propitious beginning if Thranduil were not about to confirm his lurid suspicions.

‘I have hoped for some time that you could come to trust one another,’ he conceded. ‘I believe our influence in Arda need not diminish,’ here Thranduil nodded sharply, ‘if we can but continue to look together in the same direction.’ Thranduil looked a little less convinced now, but they had conducted this discussion half a hundred times; Celeborn knew that labouring the point would not serve. Now Elrond took a breath, and brought his fingers thoughtfully to his chin.

‘It appears to me that you have found the very core of the matter. You are correct that Thranduil and I have to come to trust each other a great deal. Few there are in these times with whom each of us can speak with honesty, and with a spirit of companionship. I value Thranduil’s friendship, and his counsel, greatly.’

 Had those moments of dissonance been not only significant but deliberately placed? Had they intended to sow this seed in his mind? A hand ghosting over a knee that not only appeared intimate, but _was_ intimate. He glanced sharply at Thranduil, for if it were so he could guess who had orchestrated it. Thranduil looked back at him boldly, his brazenness a spark that flashed hot on Celeborn’s skin.

‘Have you both lost your minds?’ he hissed, the edge of the table cutting into his hands as he leaned to loom over Elrond. In response, though he still sat tall, Elrond turned his face away and lowered his eyes. He took a breath through parted lips and held it a moment.

‘You understand then what we mean to say?’ he asked, trepidation just gilding his voice.

‘I understand very well, _law-son,’_ he snarled. Elrond flinched, and turned a little paler.  ‘I understand _you_ much less. Wherefore your promises of eternal devotion that you would do this?’

‘Celeborn-‘ Thranduil began.

‘Do not even _begin_. You have your flaws, Thranduil, but I never took you for a hypocrite-’

‘You might at least choose a reason for your anger and stay with it. If you are angered on Celebrian’s behalf then you needn’t be.’

‘And what right have you to command what I may feel? ‘

‘This isn’t about love, cousin, it is entirely separate to what she and Elrond share. We have done no wrong, nor do we require your-’

‘Do you expect me to say that lust is infinitely preferable? That it is well that, contrary to feeling something of import for each other, you disregard her for the sake of something so base and ephemeral? She did not leave of her own volition-‘

‘Yes, she did-’

‘Thranduil,’ Elrond cut in. He shook his head once. Thranduil grimaced and looked apologetic for all of three heartbeats. Finally, Elrond stood from the table. ‘I apologise,’ he said, ‘that these tidings have caused such distress. We thought for some time on how we might broach the subject without vulgarity.’

‘Then you wasted that time, for what could possibly be more vulgar than telling me he will not be leaving now, because first he is going to _bed you_?’

Before his eyes, Elrond softened into empathy. ‘We have not approached the subject well,’ he said, ‘It is understandable that you are shocked.’

And with that he could stand it no longer. He strode past Thranduil, who was of course unrepentant, and couldn’t resist a parting shot as he reached the door.

‘I hope you enjoy yourselves.’

The door didn’t slam as loudly as he had hoped, but even so neither of them came after him.

* * *

He did not sleep, but paced and thought.

Elrond. There were enough elves in Imladris who might desire him. But that _Elrond_ would… unthinkable.

He and Galadriel had been watching it grow once more, that well buried loneliness he remembered from long ago, not for lack of friends or even confidantes; his interest in others and his unique character ensured he had plenty of both. Yet, there was that long ago confidence.    

_‘I am never alone, when she is with me.’_

A different meaning of alone. She was someone to rely on, who understood. There were few enough of those for Elrond in this world, and for Thranduil too.

He found Thranduil as the latter was returning from the valley’s woodland. He stepped from the trees looking almost as perfect as he would have done when he left, save for a lock of hair pulling loose from his Menegroth braid.

He tilted his head and sat cross legged on the grass. Celeborn joined him as Thranduil put a hand into his satchel and drew out a handful of what must be some of the season’s first strawberries. They were small and tart, and quite unlike those cultivated by the gardeners here in Imladris. With a practiced turn of his hand, Thranduil took precisely half of them and placed them on the grass before Celeborn, before taking one of his own and digging out the stem with his thumbnail. Once he had put it in his mouth, chewed and swallowed, he met Celeborn’s gaze and cocked an eyebrow.

Celeborn sighed and picked up one of his own berries. He fiddled with it, smoothed the leaves towards the stem and away from the fruit. ‘I think we should have this discussion inside,’ he said.

Thranduil looked up at the sky, at the angle of Anor. Celeborn was reminded of being sent by Oropher long ago to fetch Thranduil from the woods for court. The pang of love it caused was unwelcome.

They covered the basics; how long, how secret, how well considered, before Celeborn began once again to lose his temper.

‘And if one realm should make good at the expense of the other? Even if they don’t how can you be sure you will not influence each other. You have responsibilities-

‘I know that! Then if so we must do what is best for our realms. Greenwood has my loyalty, and being intimate with Elrond isn’t going to change that. He’s not _that_ good.’

‘Thranduil! And if you’re discovered?  Imagine the censure Elrond would face, and you know _you_ would be blamed.’

‘I really wasn’t the driving force.’

‘That doesn’t matter, all that matters that that you are Sindarin and Silvan, and you have chosen the Nandorin way. Such things are hidden well now, but still underneath the pretence of progress the beliefs are the same; you lay with anything that moves, you wear improper clothing, act in improper ways. You are an impure influence.’

‘If the good opinion of such people mattered to me-‘

‘It matters to Elrond, and for good reason; he needs such people. Lord here he may be, but you must have marked it.’

‘They could manage well without those friendships.’

‘But not in such a manner as they currently live, and they would not thank you for causing difficulties. You are self-sufficient, Thranduil, and I commend you, and your people, for that. I worry that you forget what it is to be otherwise.’

‘Rather than deviating into a review of my leadership, can we talk about the issue at hand, please?’

‘Exactly as I have said; what you do is unwise. You are cautious, cousin, I know how you consider the direst potential conclusion before you make a decision. Let us consider it: what if you are revealed? You know very well; at the least your every interaction will be weighed and measured, as will all those in the future. Every decision either of you ever make or have made will be shadowed by it, and be in no doubt that discrepancies and errors will be shone in a stark light. To whom will you turn if Greenwood should ever require aid? Will Elrond dare provide it?’

‘We’re treading the same muddied ground.’

‘We need to examine these things.’

Thranduil ran a hand through his hair, finally looking affected. ‘Celeborn, you cannot be disapproving for political reasons, or that makes _you_ the hypocrite.’

‘That was entirely different. I love Galadriel, and she was not the ruler of another realm at that point. Neither of us bore such responsibility. Even if we consider only the most basic of problems that may arise, what will you do if you quarrel?’

‘Over what? We are not youths, cousin.’

‘And yet you rut like it, with no thought to the consequences. I might have expected that of you, but not Elrond.’

‘If we could dispense with the insults, I would-‘

‘-and what of the insult to my daughter?’

‘It is no insult, she has good taste,’ Thranduil said airily.

Celeborn had already surged towards him before he realised it and checked himself, and though Thranduil still stood tall and straight, he took half a step back as alarm flashed across his features. Nowhere in memory could Celeborn recall even thinking of raising a hand to him, and it was hard to tell who was more surprised. They remained in tableau, as Thranduil, _finally serious,_ spoke with a rarely heard tone of placation.

‘I am not trying to take him from her.’

Several breaths passed before Celeborn felt he could answer.

‘Which is partly what I do not understand. Why risk so much for so little?’

‘It is not so very little. Yes, I want him, and for bodily reasons…though I ask you, Celeborn, who would not?’ Seeing his expression, he conceded, ‘I imagine you would not. But I will admit that I am not immune. Yet it is more than that. He makes me feel…’ he shrugged and murmured something unclear. ‘I do not intend to be celibate forever, but I am not the sort for finding a mere lover. Nor have I the security to do so, without trust in my partner. And whom do I trust that is not subject to the same scrutiny that Aeluin was? If I’m to have a lover, I come to believe they must not be among my people. I may have family around me yet we both find ourselves somewhat alone, and I do care for him.’

‘As you care for Celebrian?’ he remarked with a bitter smile. Thranduil seemed taken aback.

‘You _know_ I love Celebrian,’ he said softly, ‘You know that.’

‘Do I?’ he asked, long Yeni of resentment rising in his chest, so close to his throat, ‘It seems to me that you washed your hands of her, as you did of me.’

Thranduil looked for a moment as though he’d been struck over the back of the head. ‘ _You_ are accusing _me_ of abandonment? That is rich, considering.‘

‘I-‘

‘I _never_ stopped caring about you, or about her, and I would _never_ wish to cause her pain. Not that I could if I even wanted to.’ Unexpectedly, he smiled tenderly. ‘Celeborn, you know how he adores her. That is not a love that will wane with the tides.’

Celeborn said nothing for long moments, and Thranduil shook his head and went to stand by the window to look out over the valley, which was washed in shades of mauve in the autumn evening light.

When his thoughts had calmed, Celeborn went to him and stood beside him, speaking around the tightness in his throat.

‘We were too long among the Teleri, for you to be speaking thus,’ he murmured.

A corner of Thranduil’s mouth lifted in a concessionary smile. In his grey Doriath style tunic and his gems, his braided hair silver in this light, he looked every inch a Menegroth lord, whatever came out of his mouth. He tilted his head, but didn’t look away from the window.

‘You left too,’ he said, weary but without accusation.

‘In hroa,’ Celeborn assured him, ‘but not in fea. My heart was often with you. Yet you turned away.’

Breaking his lordly persona, Thranduil shrugged.

‘I was hurting,’ he said, ‘and afraid, and under strain.’

‘For the entirety of the Second age and more?’ he enquired gently.

‘You made your choice,’ Thranduil said. ‘Do not complain when it bites you in the arse.’

Celeborn couldn’t help but laugh.

‘It seems to me that it’s you doing that,’ he said, without venom.

Thranduil smirked and tilted his head. Unbidden, the possible double meaning came to Celeborn, and the thought led his mind down a more intimate and speculative route. He balked, but not before something occurred to him.

‘Thranduil, I do not recall… That is, as far as I knew you had never yet- unless you were most discreet-‘

‘Oh, for goodness sake. No, I had not.’

‘I see. Well, have you found then that, ah…’

They were stood close now, as for youthful confidences.

‘I would rather not discuss it,’ Thranduil said, pointedly continuing to gaze at the horizon.

‘Ah, so it wasn’t quite-‘

‘I did not mean…Hold one moment, are you truly interested in hearing about your law-son with your cousin?’

‘Thranduil, that wasn’t what I was asking!’

Finally, Thranduil looked at him. However, that expression…

‘You seem very interested in details. Now that I consider it, how many elves had you known when you wed Galad-‘

‘Do not, Thranduil,’ he warned.

‘Well, if you insist that we must drop the subject then we must.’

Celeborn shook his head with a fond smile, but Thranduil turned serious in a moment and crossed his arms.

‘Celeborn, regarding the potential ramifications, whether personal or political, I hope that you can trust that we will do as we deem best. That you can trust our judgement.’

So resolute, so much his father’s son. But wiser, and just as shrewd. Very well.

‘I cannot know what you each have or have not considered, but as you say I know the both of you well enough to have faith in your judgements.’ He could not precisely sanction it, nor was he truly placated, but… ‘I will not interfere, nor will I speak to anyone of this, save Galadriel.’ Thranduil grimaced a little. He deserved it, as far as Celeborn was concerned. Still…

‘And though she has been the Lady of Lorien long enough to know our ways, I will ensure she understands. I will grant you, we did wonder if Elrond might perhaps find another to help him pass the _yeni_.’

‘This isn’t-‘

‘Intended to last, I know. In truth, I think that may have been what most shocked me, as it is Elrond we’re discussing.’

‘Should we have told you instead that we are deeply and irrevocably in love?’ Thranduil asked slyly.

Celeborn grinned. ‘You could have tried; I would not have believed that in a thousand years,’ he said.

Elrond was more difficult to find, but after Celeborn came across Thranduil again he swallowed his pride and asked him. He didn’t really want to have to enquire of Arwen, and be required to explain to her why he wished to speak with her father, particularly when she had already surmised that they had disagreed over something or other. He would not have his evasiveness misconstrued.  

‘I expect you’ve just missed him coming from the Halls of Healing,’ Thranduil said, a little wary but he spoke readily enough. ‘He has been at a training review today but I would think you’ll find him dressing for dinner by now.’

And so he did. Elrond was in his chamber, with his valet fastening the tiny pearl buttons up his nape. Celeborn tried not to think about the fact that Thranduil obviously knew Elrond’s schedule.

‘Thank you, Faeldûr.’ The elf left, and Elrond began to fasten his own cuffs.

Celeborn reached for the light over robe that was ready for Elrond to don, and lifted it that he might shrug into it. Elrond looked at him strangely, before doing so.

‘Thank you’ he murmured, lifting his hair free to fall down his back. Now that Celeborn thought of it, he remembered Thranduil looking often at Elrond’s hair the night before.

‘I’ve spoken with Thranduil,’ he replied. ‘On reflection, though I do not quite agree that the risk you take is manageable or worthwhile, I do trust your judgement.’

‘Thank you,’ Elrond repeated. ‘I highly value your counsel and I will not forget your caution. I also apologise for my behaviour yesterday. It was not my intent to be condescending.’

‘I don’t believe there was any way you could have spoken to me with which I would not have taken offence. I know that you and Celebrian agreed to release one another from your vows, but I also know my daughter, and I doubt her heart is swayed from you. I would simply ask that you remember it.’

Elrond’s eyes turned intent, as they were wont to do. ‘I intend to remember it well. When I one day reach the white shores, it will be her face I look for, so long as she still will have me.’ He sighed, and weighed his words for a long moment, secure in the knowledge that Celeborn would wait for him decide precisely what he meant to say. ‘It is not what I would have hoped for, to lose your esteem in this manner.’

‘You have not, my friend. What will you tell Arwen, and the twins when they return?’

Elrond flicked his gaze away in discomfort. ‘Any behaviour that would be unusual is already kept to private chambers. Thranduil has suggested that we spend less time together during the day, that I can be with them. He and I can then meet in the evenings.’

‘They are out of the habit of coming to you unannounced then? They used to wander into your rooms freely.’

‘My rooms, yes, but not my bedchamber after I have retired. We lock the door anyway, just in the event.  And they are grown and have their own lives.’

‘It is as Thranduil said then. It is unlike you, Elrond, to consider bodily intimacies without great depth of feeling, and Thranduil can be persistent when he desires something. I trust he has not placed undue pressure upon you?’

Elrond frowned and stopped fiddling with his belt. ‘Thranduil may be indomitable,’ he said, ‘but he would not compel anyone in such a manner.’

‘I would not have thought it possible myself, but I feel… There is so much of him now that is strange to me. I knew him once as well as if he were my brother but I no longer know what he will or will not do, nor what he might say, nor how he may feel. We let hurt come between us, a hurt we made ourselves and could perhaps have mended rather than yielded to as we have. We yielded to injury and anger, and time has done the rest.’

‘Yet you have always spoken of him fondly.’

‘I speak fondly _of_ him, I do not speak fondly _to_ him. I expect that never helps. ‘

‘In my experience, Thranduil cares little for the manner in which he is spoken to, and more for the content of speech.’

‘Yes, that’s true. I am glad that you understand that about him. It reassures me that you may know what you’re doing.’

‘He and I might go for a walk together, we might spar, we might perhaps discuss politics, or trade, or the arts. My interest in facets of his friendship is manifold; that we might in addition choose to lay with each other has little more meaning than these other activities.’

‘Those are my cousin’s words.’

Perhaps they are,’ he conceded, ‘but I agree with them. And now I know with even greater certainty that we cannot take the rhetoric of any single culture as ultimate truth, and I have seen the damage done by attaching shame to these desires. For myself, and I think for Thranduil, it is not merely a desire to meet the needs of the body, but also to feel the closeness of another equal being, and to have the connection of trust and support that such engenders.’

‘I do not object to the principle in that respect. I am sorry for how I spoke to you, Elrond. I was defensive for Bria’s sake, but it was unhelpful, and careless of how life must now be for you without her here.’

‘I cannot say truthfully that you do not have a right to be. I am being selfish, I fear, and thoughtless. I…do not know if this will cause her harm, or pain, only that I chose to stay here so that I might do my part for Arda’s future,’ His eyes lost their focus for a moment, before he surfaced again and said slowly, ‘and I find this more difficult than I ought. In some way Thranduil helps me.’

‘ It is no crime to wish for a friend  but Elrond, if you should need a friend of another nature I hope that you will trust me. I know that I am not often here, but when I am, lean on me. When I am not, write to me. And open yourself to your companions here; you have many around you who would be good, dear friends if you would allow them.’

‘I thank you, very much, and I will remember it. As for others, I have friendships here that I treasure but I can never quite forget myself when I am with them. Never quite. Nor should I.’

Downstairs, golden evening light spilled through the archway before the terrace, and caught in the auburn of Elrond’s robes as he stilled, secure and so composed as he turned to Celeborn.

‘I do not know when she and I will meet again, but she will always be foremost in my heart.’

Then Arwen’s voice was greeting them, and Celeborn watched as he stepped through into the sunlight.

 


End file.
